


2AM Dark Side Vanilla Porters

by shayunknown



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Awkwardness, Drunken Shenanigans, First Meetings, M/M, romcom trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 18:18:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6481657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shayunknown/pseuds/shayunknown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean was drunk and accidentally broke into Castiel’s apartment instead of his brother’s. That’s his story and he’s sticking to it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	2AM Dark Side Vanilla Porters

**Author's Note:**

> Romcom trash.

Dean was drunk. There was no way around that. He was drunk enough to jump up when that one song started that he now can’t remember the name of and tried to dance. He was drunk enough to not see the barstool that had been next to him all night long, trip over it, and then laugh at his own misfortune as he stared up at the old ceiling rafters from his place on the floor.

Jo was above him in an instant, half worried and half laughing as she helped him back to his feet.

He doesn’t remember much of what happened after that.

He does, however, remember what his crap of an apartment looks like. It is a tiny little studio with his old as hell bed shoved into one corner and his tiny little kitchen shoved into the other. There’s no room for a table, so he eats on the couch that his (might as well be father) uncle Bobby managed to find somewhere for him. The door to the equally as tiny bathroom is right next to the fridge. The location of which makes for some interesting evenings when Sammy comes over and trashes it after eating some spicy Mexican food.

He knows all of that, even after a night of getting black out drunk and not remembering how he got home he at least remembers what home _is_.

Where he is now, well, that’s not home.

He closes his eyes and counts to ten, sure that he is still dreaming – he knows damn well he’s still drunk, so maybe it’s just some post Empyrean beer hallucination. He blames Lafitte fully. Fuck knows Dean would never hop on the craft beer wagon without some sort of peer pressure.

Groaning, he rolls onto his side and presses a hand over his eyes and throws a foot off of the couch he’s found himself on. Everything spins for a moment, and while he’s been puke free since high school, he’s not so sure that record will hold much longer. He counts backwards from ten, hoping against all reason that switching things up will mellow his brain and stomach out.

“Uh, who are you?”

He freezes and turns his head in the direction of what he is sure sounded like a voice. He half opens one eye, catching sight of a man standing off to his left before he’s forced to close it because the morning sunlight coming through the window hits him right in the face.

“Oh god,” he mumbles, rolling onto his stomach with the right side of his body dangling off of the couch. “It hurts.”

“I think you’re lost,” the man says, keeping his voice down. “You should wake up.”

Dean manages to respond with something, though he’s not sure any of the words actually make sense.

“How did you even get in here? The door was locked.”

He rolls his head to the side and squints out at the room again. Definitely not his tiny apartment. His tiny apartment would fit in this one living room. The kitchen has nice countertops, stainless steel appliances, and there’s even a table to eat at.

The layout, though, is oddly familiar.

“I was looking for someone,” he grumbles as he pushes himself back up. Once his feet are flat on the floor, the room doesn’t spin as much and his stomach doesn’t feel as though it’s going to hurl. “I’m not sure…”

The layout reminds him of Sam’s place, though the décor is sparser and more modern than Jess would ever allow.

He looks left, where the window opens up to a nice city view. He recognizes some of the buildings-

“Oh shit.” He looks back at the man still staring at him and finally notices the can of pepper spray clutched in his hands. “Okay, no. I’m sorry. I was looking for my brother’s place. Winchester. Sam Winchester. He lives in this building.”

The man’s expression gives nothing away, and he hasn’t blinked since Dean opened his eyes.

“I think I came in through the window,” Dean continues, waving his hand out to the left. “Jess and Sam were already sleeping when I got back, so I didn’t want to wake them up. I don’t have a key to the building, so I would have had to call him.”

“So you climbed up the fire escape?”

“Yep.”

“His window is on the right. He lives just to the right.”

“Ah, yeah. That explains it. I was drunk. Couldn’t tell right from left, you know how it is.”

“Right.”

Dean blinks, still drunk enough to be confused just by that conversation. “I’m just going to…” he trails off and points to the door. “If you don’t mind.”

The man looks over his shoulder, sees what he’s planning, and nods. As Dean walks by him, he notices the pepper spray stays aimed at him. He obviously doesn’t get along with _everyone_ , but Dean still doesn’t like it when someone who _he_ doesn’t dislike doesn’t trust him.

“I’m Dean. Winchester. Dean Winchester. Sam’s older brother,” he says, hoping his smile is charming enough to make the man ignore his stumbled words. “Who are you?”

One eyebrow goes up first, as if the man can’t believe Dean is even talking, and then both go up as he realizes that Dean is actually being serious. “You’re joking.”

“Uh, I didn’t think I was.”

“You, a complete stranger, broke into my apartment and now you want my name?”

Dean shrugs. “You live next to my brother. I’m sure he knows you. He’s probably even mentioned you before.”

“This is all rather creepy.” The man takes a step forward, opens the door, and stands aside to wave Dean through. “You should leave.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m going,” Dean says, half expecting the man to give him a kick on the ass to get him out faster. He’s disappointed when his ass remains untouched.

* * *

He has to call Sam’s phone anyway in order to get into the apartment, but he feels marginally better about doing it at 6:30 in the morning instead of 3:30. Sam gets up stupidly early anyway, and Jess tends to be nice no matter what time it is.

Once inside, Dean promptly face plants into the couch and sleeps for a couple more hours. He’s sure Sam frets over him for a little bit, probably smelling the alcohol on his breath and wondering if there’s any vomit anywhere that needs cleaning.

When his eyes finally peel open again, the clock above the fireplace says it’s close to 1:15, and Dean can smell something like bacon coming from the Kitchen.

“Sammy, you’re still the best,” he says on a moan when he shuffles in, scraping his hands over his face and kicking his boots off his feet, cursing his drunk self all the while for not bothering to take anything off before passing out.

Sam, his (not so little) little brother, looks over his shoulder at him from his place in front of the stove and rolls his eyes. “I figured this would wake you up. You drive all the way out here to visit me, and you spend your first night here getting drunk with Jo and your second day here sleeping.” He’s teasing, Dean knows he is, but he still has the decency to feel bad.

“I told you that you and Jess should come out.” He takes a seat at the dining table – a huge oak thing that Jess’s family had given them. “It was a good time. I hadn’t seen Jo in… damn, _years_.”

Sam scoops out the bacon and eggs onto a plate and hands it and a spoon to Dean. “It’s fine. We ended up catching up on work anyway. I have a pretty big case next week. High profile.”

They catch up over the late brunch. They’d talked only a little the day before when Dean first got in to town, but Sam hadn’t been able to get off of work until late and Dean had already been having dinner with Jo by the time he’d called.

“My bags are still in my car. I need a shower.”

“And to brush your teeth. The living room just smells like alcohol and morning breath now.”

Dean nods, taking another bite of the scrambled eggs and glancing out of the kitchen window. “Your place is looking good. You’ve added a bit more to it.”

“Jess has been, actually. She’s good at it.”

“How have you two been?”

“Uh, yeah, good. We’ve been doing good. The city is really great. I’ve actually been seeing postings around town for one bedroom apartments, too. Near here, actually. And Bobby mentioned something about needing more hands at the shop.”

Dean holds up a hand, swallowing a bite of bacon. “Dude, come on.”

“Just a thought,” Sam says, backing off easily – too easily – and slouching in his chair. “It’d be nice to see you more. All of your old friends are here. What’s left in Lawrence?”

Dean doesn’t ignore him – his stupid little brother is right and he kind of hates that – but he doesn’t answer him. “So, I had a run in with a guy that lives around here. Just shorter than me, brown hair, deep voice, looks like a runner. Sound familiar?”

Sam grins at him, arms crossing over his chest and his spine straightening. He always did have some special ability to tell when Dean was actually interested in something. “My neighbor?”

Dean hums, maneuvering the rest of the egg onto his spoon before shoveling it all into his mouth. “Yeah,” he says around the mouthful, grinning even though some of the egg is stuck in his teeth. “What’s his story?”

“I don’t know,” Sam answers, rolling his eyes. “His name is Castiel Novak. He usually leaves at seven in the morning and is back before I get home. I’m guessing it’s a regular office job of some sort.”

“You haven’t spoken with him much, then?” Dean asks, tossing his spoon down and pushing the plate away. He leans back in his seat and rubs his hands over his belly.

Sam shakes his head. “Jess has. You’ll have to get your insider info from her.” He scoots forward, hands clasped together and his elbows on the table. He looks like he’s going to vibrate right out of his seat. “Why do you ask?”

“I might have broken into his place last night.”

“Dean! Why the hell would you do that?”

“I was drunk?”

Sam snorts, rolls his eyes, and looks every inch of _done_. “I can’t believe you. I thought it was just dinner with Jo?”

Getting up, Dean grabs his dirty dishes and pads over to the sink, running the water to hot as he answers. “We ended up inviting Benny. He had a few growler sample of Empyrean beer with him. Some craft from Nebraska or somewhere. He was seeing if he should add it to the bar.”

“You drink beer all the time,” Sam says, watching Dean clean from his spot at the table. “You rarely get that drunk.”

Dean laughs. “This stuff had a bit more alcohol than the regular beers I drink. I also had two growlers to myself.”

Sam rolls his eyes and gets to his feet. “You should go apologize to the guy. You probably scared him. Is that why you showed up at seven?”

“I’d had it all thought out last night, but it seems kind of stupid now.”

“Yeah, you think?”

“Anyway, guy nice?”

Grabbing a bottled water from the fridge, Sam brings it over to Dean. He turns and snatches a bottle of pain medicine and puts it next to the sink as well. “You are ridiculous, Dean. There’s no way he’s going to be interested in some drunk ass that broke into his apartment. Take those, and then go brush your damn teeth and take a shower. You stink.”

* * *

Dean doesn’t search the guy out purposefully, but by the look Castiel gives him when they run into each other at the Roadhouse later that night screams pain if Dean tries anything.

“Are you stalking me?” Castiel asks, stepping back and holding his glass of dark beer up like it’ll actually do something.

“What? No, man,” Dean says, holding his hands up before jerking his head towards the booth where Sam and Jess are still sitting. “I’m here with my brother and his fiancé.”

Again, Castiel doesn’t look like he believes him, but he looks back at the booth anyway before scowling at Dean and walking towards his own table where two guys are waiting for him.

Shaking his head, Dean continues to the bar, giving Benny a mocking salute before dropping his head onto the bar top. “Kill me now, please.”

Benny laughs, filling up a glass with water. “He’s a nice guy. Comes in here a lot with those other guys. I think they’re all related. Maybe not the blonde and your guy. They get a little friendly with each other after a few drinks.”

“I don’t think I want to know that,” Dean whines, taking the water from Benny and gulping it down. Nearly 24 hours after their little pow-wow and he’s still hungover. “So he’s not single?”

“I thought you didn’t want to know?” Benny asks. “Do you know what you three want to eat?”

Dean nods and tells Benny their order, only just refraining from saying to drench Sam’s salad in some sort of fatty dressing. Benny would know not to do it anyway. Sam and Jess are apparently regular visitors.

“Do you want to try any more of that Dark Side?” Benny asks with that stupid sly grin of his.

Dean’s stomach rolls at the reminder, and he smacks his lips together and cringes. He can still taste it. “No. I’m done drinking for a couple days.”

“I think Ellen’s going to add it to the selection,” Benny says happily. “How long are you staying in town?”

He shrugs and takes another drink of the water. “I’m not sure. A week, I think. Might check out Bobby’s shop sometime.”

“I hear he could use some extra help there.”

“Yeah, everyone has heard that.”

Dean heads back to his booth, disappointed that he has to make a conscious effort not to look back at Castiel’s table. It’s pointless because the moment he sits down, he glances over anyway and smiles when he meets Castiel’s eyes for a split second before the other man looks away.

When he looks back at Sam and Jess, they’re both grinning in that stupid couple way they do when they see something adorable.

“That’s Castiel Novak,” Jess says without prompting, and Dean tries not to appear too eager for more information. “He lives next to Sam and I.”

“That’s nice,” he tries. They both see through it if their growing smiles are any indication. “You should try the Dark Side. Vanilla Porter. Goes down really smooth.”

Sam chuckles and grabs his napkin, playing with the edges as their conversation flows back to the night before. They talk about Jo and Ellen, Dean catching up on a few months’ worth of gossip. Bobby’s name is mentioned a few times, always followed by how he could use some help or the how the shop is doing.

“I think I’ll head over there tomorrow while you two are at work. Say hi.”

They all lean back as Benny brings over their food.

“Record time,” Dean says with a smile. He eyes the cheeseburger and fries with something close to awe. It’s been far too long since he’s had a good old Roadhouse burger.

“Bobby’s opens at 9 on Thursdays. He usually stops in here in the morning for a coffee and to bother Ellen,” Benny says, continuing their conversation. “You can come by then, too, if you want. We’re trying our hand at breakfast.”

Dean nods. “Sounds wonderful,” he says, munching on some fries and looking everywhere but at people’s eyes. He sees Castiel and his friends looking at him and gives a cheeky wave. Benny leaves their table with a snort and walks back to the bar, shaking his head all the while.

“What’s that about then?” Jess asks. She steals a tomato from Sam’s salad with a grin.

“Dean wants to know his story,” Sam says as he wipes his mouth with his napkin. “He’s too nervous to just go up and talk to him.”

Rolling his eyes, Dean flicks a fry at Sam’s face, smiling at the glare he receives. “I’m not nervous. I just want to know if he’s single before I go over and waste everyone’s time.”

“Just ask for his number,” Jess presses, leaning across her plate and speaking in a whisper. A loud whisper. Dean’s sure everyone in the tables near them were able to hear her.

“Hey, come on. I’m almost thirty. I don’t need advice from my little brother’s fiancé on how to get dates. I know what I’m doing.”

Sam nudges Jess with his elbow and jerks his head at Dean. “He broke into his apartment last night.”

“Dean!”

“Climbed in through the window, blackout drunk. Slept on his couch until the poor guy found him this morning.”

“Oh my god, Dean,” Jess moans, hiding her face in her hands. Dean’s sure she’s laughing at him.

He takes a bite of his burger and waits for her to calm down. He doesn’t mind being teased. He has enough stories about Sammy in his arsenal to be too worried about anything damaging happening that he can’t retaliate.

“You can’t just do things like that.”

“No, really? I thought it was perfectly acceptable.”

Jess laughs with her head thrown back and the horseshoe of her jaw visible. Sam stares at her like he’s seeing God.

Dean rolls his eyes. “I _know_ I can’t do things like that, but I was drunk off of my ass and wasn’t thinking. I barely even remember climbing the fire escape. Your living rooms look similar in the dark.”

They’re still laughing, but Jess has controlled herself enough to be able to speak halfway seriously. “He’s really a nice guy. The man he’s with – the brown haired one – is his older brother. I think his name’s Gabe, or I’ve heard Castiel call him something like that. The other guy I’ve seen around, but not as often. I think he’s a friend.”

Taking a bite of his burger, Dean chews for a moment before talking around the mouthful. “That’s why I can’t just go over there. I’m already on his bad side. He thinks I’m stalking him.”

Sam is _still_ laughing as he eats his stupid, healthy salad.

“Well, I don’t think they’re together,” Jess responds, humming around a handful of sweet potato fries. “The guy flirts with everything that moves, even if Castiel is there. They do get friendly when they drink, though.”

Dean huffs. “That’s what Benny said.”

“I still think they’re just friends.”

“Just go say hi.”

Sam reaches over and pulls Dean’s plate away, waving a hand in Dean’s face when he starts to shout. “You can eat the rest of this burger after you’ve gone and said hello.”

“Fuck off, bitch.”

“Go say hello, jerk.”

Dean glares at him with everything his dad taught them, but Sam is immune – king of bitch faces that he is. So with one last mumbled curse, Dean balls up his napkin and tosses it back onto the table before scooting out of the booth and stomping across the room to where ‘Gabe’, Castiel, and his potential boyfriend are all enjoying a round of drinks.

The boyfriend is the first to notice him coming over, and by the suggestive grin that he gives Dean… he’s probably not a boyfriend. Gabe looks a touch more menacing, but Dean doesn’t expect anything less from an older brother.

Castiel is the last to catch on, and he turns around in his seat in what feels like slow motion. His eyes – blue, Dean notices – trail up from his feet all the way to Dean’s face before he blinks and takes up that blank look on his face that he’s an expert at.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Uh, hey,” he says. “You know my name?”

Castiel points to the not boyfriend. “He knew it.”

“Oh, yeah. Right.”

“I’m Balthazar. Yes, it’s a weird name, I know. You mentioned many times how weird it was last night,” Balthazar says with a wink and a laugh.

Dean, however, is frozen. He’s sure he’s never seen the man before, and he was too drunk to get it up last night. “I didn’t…” Fuck, but he can’t remember anything after falling over and before he woke up on Castiel’s couch. Was Balthazar there? He couldn’t remember a damn thing. “I’m sorry, but I don’t-”

“He’s mocking you,” Castiel interrupts, glaring at his friend a moment before looking back at Dean. “He just got into town this morning.”

“Oh, okay.”

The four of them stare at each other. Well, Gabe doesn’t. He just glares at Dean.

“I hear you broke into my baby bro’s place last night,” he says. He’s playing with a candy wrapper, twisting and untwisting the paper over and over again. “What do you want?”

Dean looks back towards the safety of the booth he’d left behind. Sam and Jess deserved all of the pouting he was going to do when they went back to their place.

“I wanted to apologize. Again. I was really drunk last night.”

Like some hero out of some stupid action movie, Benny sweeps on by with a tray of food balanced on one hand. He uses his other to slap Dean on the shoulder. “Lighten up, boys. Dean is an old friend. I’ll vouch for him.” He keeps on walking, swerving around the tables until he gets to a couple and starts handing out their food.

Dean looks back at Castiel with a small, pathetic grin. “He’s actually the one that kept the alcohol flowing.”

Castiel raises an eyebrow. “You're blaming your friend?”

With one last, long look Dean sighs and throws up his hands. He’s usually good at flirting. Usually good at turning on the charm to get anyone and everyone to like him. Castiel doesn’t seem to be moved by any of it.

“No, but what the hell. He came in with some weird ass beer in these huge ass growlers and wouldn’t let me leave until they were all empty. I got a cab back to Sammy’s, climbed the fire escape because I was drunk enough to try to be Batman, picked the wrong window to open, and passed out on the couch. That’s what happened. That’s the truth.”

Benny slaps his shoulder again on the way back to the bar. “He’s a lightweight.”

Groaning, Dean lets his head fall forward as the mortification sets in. This has to be some sort of karma for something he did when he was little. Too many pranks on Sam. Not doing whatever his parents told him to until one of them had to yell at him. _Something_.

“Dean,” Castiel huffs, and for the first damn time since they met, he looks at Dean with a small tilt to the corners of his mouth. “It’s okay.”

“That’s it. I’m leaving,” Gabe says, pushing himself up from his seat and tossing the candy wrapper at Castiel. “It’s embarrassing enough listening to you talk about your weird crush. It’s too much to see this in person.”

Dean smiles widely, looking back at Castiel and absolutely loving that someone else is getting embarrassed. “A crush? On a guy that broke into your apartment?”

“I can’t handle this!” Gabe shouts back at them on his way out of the bar. “Cas, we have to meet Luke and Michael. You can talk to lover boy later. I can’t _wait_ for them to hear about this.”

“Oh, for the love of…” Castiel mumbles as he hurries to his feet. He gives Dean another smile, waiting for Balthazar to get his things together and move. “Please just use the door next time, okay?”

Dean nods. “Sure. Next time.”


End file.
